


Vacation

by Delanach



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-18
Updated: 2011-09-18
Packaged: 2017-10-23 20:31:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delanach/pseuds/Delanach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They don't do romance, but Sam decides to risk taking Dean away for a weekend.  To say Dean is surprised is an understatement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vacation

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kink Bingo 2011, for the Vanilla Kink square.

_**Vacation**_  
 **Characters:** Dean/Sam  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Word Count:** 3103  
 **Beta:** [](http://seleneheart.livejournal.com/profile)[**seleneheart**](http://seleneheart.livejournal.com/)  
 **Disclaimer:** Sadly, they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them for a while.  
 **Notes:** Written for Kink Bingo 2011, for the Vanilla Kink square.  
 **Warnings:** Manly schmoop.

 **Summary:** They don't do romance, but Sam decides to risk taking Dean away for a weekend. To say Dean is surprised is an understatement.

The next time they book into a motel and the clerk mistakes them for a couple, Dean simply sighs and shakes his head.

It’s a small thing, but one that gets Sam thinking. The first few times it happened, Dean was genuinely bemused, then later, he would roll his eyes and look at the person behind the desk as though they were stupid. After they started fucking, Dean would get flustered, which Sam knew just cemented their status in the minds of many a bored motel staff member. But never once had Dean simply sighed.

Sam watches him closer than usual, as Dean goes through his routines, the ones that weave together with Sam’s like snug warp and weft threads. Dean sorts laundry, he lets Sam have the first shower in the morning, but then joins him anyway. He cracks jokes on the way to the diner for breakfast the next morning, orders the special and a strong black coffee, and makes sure they sit in a prime position to see all the exits.

Sam’s beginning to think that maybe Dean had just been tired when they checked in, but then it happens. Two guys walk in. It doesn’t take too keen an observer to see that they are more than friends. They walk close together, gently jostling each other now and then. When they sit down at the counter, obviously locals by the way the server greets them, they shift their seats until they are closer together, and after they’ve placed their order, they talk, heads close together. The taller one puts his hand on his partner’s back, a small gesture that speaks of comfort and a deep familiarity. He gets a smile in return, full of fondness.

Sam glances at Dean, and that’s when he sees it. Dean grimaces as he watches the two guys, his brow furrowing, and he sighs again. To anyone else, it might look as if he disapproves of the two men showing affection towards each other, but Sam knows different.

Dean envies them. They have what he can never have.

Sam stares at Dean, wide eyed. No chick flick moments, that’s the rule. Dean’s rule. They aren’t partners or lovers, they’re brothers, and that overrides everything else about their relationship. Sam agrees, he really does, but sometimes, just once in a while, he’d like it to be different. Now he knows that Dean feels the same, Sam begins to make plans.

  
“Explain this case to me again?” Dean asks as Sam drives them into a small town on the Californian coast. It’s January, but there are worse and colder places to be, even if Sam’s been real evasive when it comes to the reason that they’re there.

Sam glances at him. Dean looks good in the clothes that Sam insisted would allow them to blend in. Nothing fancy; a new pair of jeans, a soft blue linen shirt, open at the neck with the sleeves rolled up and new shoes, not his usual work boots.

“I look like something out of a catalogue,” Dean whines, and squirms in his seat.

“An Abercrombie and Fitch catalogue,” Sam mutters. Dean looks hot in his new clothes, so much so that Sam has been squirming too, but for very different reasons.

“A what now?” Dean glares at him, as if Sam has just insulted him.

“Never mind. We’re almost there.”

“Where’s there, Sam?” Dean’s getting more exasperated by the minute.

As they turn into a long drive which leads to a hotel close to the beach, Sam finally comes clean.

“There isn’t a case. We’re on vacation.”

“We’re what?” Dean yells. “We’re hunters, we don’t have vacations.”

“Yeah, well, I thought it’s time we did.” Sam glares at his brother. “Happy birthday.”

Dean opens his mouth, but closes it again as what Sam said sinks in.

“This is my birthday present?” He looks up at the elegant hotel. “Huh. It’s classier than our usual digs. I’m guessing that we’re not getting wasted, ordering pizza watching Die Hard again?”

Sam grins. Dean’s birthday celebrations have followed the same pattern every year since they were kids.

Dean looks down at his new clothes again.

“So why’d you get me all dressed up? Is this some kind of role play thing, Sammy?” He leers.

“You could say that.” Sam grins back, not sure how Dean will take the last part. “We’re a couple.”

“Come again?” Dean blinks, sure he’d heard that wrong.

“We are Dean and Sam Wesson. I’ve brought my life partner, that’s you, Dean, here to celebrate his birthday.” Sam expects an outburst, yelling, maybe some door slamming and storming around outside, but that isn’t what he gets.

“Oh.” Dean blinks again.

“Huh.” Sam decides to make the most of a stunned Dean, and gets out of the car, fetching their bags from the trunk. When Dean still hasn’t moved, he walks round and opens the passenger door.

Dean stares up at him.

“Come on dude,” Sam cajoles. “If nothing else, the food is supposed to be amazing. They even have a selection of gourmet burgers.”

Dean looks up at him, pauses for another long minute, then gets out of the car.

“You sure know how to spoil a guy, Sammy.”

Dean still isn’t smiling, but at least he’s talking, so Sam takes another chance. He leans in and kisses his brother. It’s chaste, as their kisses usually go, a soft brush of lips across lips, but it’s electric. It’s out in the daylight, in public, where they can be seen by others. Dean stands stock still for a moment, then pulls back as shock hits him.

“Sam. What the fuck?”

“No-one knows us here,” Sam reassures him.

Dean thinks about that, and then nods. When Sam walks off towards the hotel, looking back over his shoulder to make sure Dean isn’t about to climb back into the Impala and drive off, Dean follows him.

The reception area is bright and sunny, with fresh flowers everywhere, adding a touch of warmth to what is a crisp winter’s afternoon. Sam wanders over to the desk, and tells the clerk who they are. He reacts with enthusiasm.

“Mr and Mr Wesson! Welcome to the Cherry Blossom Inn!” He greets them, beaming. “You’re staying in the Magnolia suite, a very wise choice, it has wonderful views over the bay. My name is Barry. Please feel free to let me know if there’s anything I can do to help make your stay here a perfect one.”

“Thanks Barry, I will.” Sam smiles while Dean looks shell shocked as Barry tells them all about breakfast and dinner times while he books them in, where the best walks down to the beach are, and which local restaurants get his seal of approval.

Dean’s still so stunned by the whole situation that when Sam’s fingers laced with his, in broad daylight, in front of other people, he jumps.

Barry shoots him a worried glance.

“This is exactly why we’re here,” Sam explains. “Way too much stress at work.”

Sam moves closer to Dean, still holding his hand and smiles at him.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place.” Barry smiles again, a little softer this time. “Anything we can do to make your time with us as stress free as possible, just let me know.”

“I, er, thanks.” Dean smiles back, still not relaxing, but keeping hold of Sam’s hand, which Sam takes as a minor win.

Barry gets another member of the staff to take their bags and show them their room. Sam tips the kid well and turns to watch Dean who’s standing in the big bay window, looking out over the sand towards the sea.

“Can’t remember the last time we were near a beach,” he murmurs.

Sam walks up behind him and puts his hands on Dean’s shoulders.

“We’re here for three days so we can take a walk tomorrow. Right now, I have plans.”

“You do?” Dean turns round, still clearly awed by the situation. “This place is amazing, Sammy.”

“So are you.”

“What? C’mon, Sam, you know we don’t do this stuff.” Dean turns and steps away, but Sam catches his hand and pulls him back. When he sees that Dean is blushing, he does his best to hide the grin on his face.

“Look, I know we don’t do this, but for once, we can. See, at the risk of freaking you out, I love you, and I never get to tell you cause _we_ don’t do this stuff.”

“You don’t need to tell me, I already know that.” Dean rolls his eyes, his cheeks still pink.

“You also need to know that you’re it for me, Dean. I’m not gonna find a nice girl, settle down and have kids. I don’t want that because I have you.” Now Sam’s blushing, but he doesn’t care. Dean might not need to hear it, but he needs to say it.

“So I’m the girl in this?” Dean grumbles.

Sam runs a hand down Dean’s body and palms his dick, smirking when he feels it twitch. “No, I’d say you’re definitely not a girl.”

“Dick.” Dean rolls his eyes.

“Exactly.” Sam’s smirk grows wider.

“So what now?” Dean reaches up and slips his fingers into Sam’s hair. He pulls him closer and kisses him, warm moist lips parting so he can taste Sam.

“Now I take my time,” Sam murmurs against his mouth.

Sam slowly unbuttons Dean’s shirt, popping each button and skimming his hands down the crisp fabric to get to the next. He lets the shirt hang open, giving him a glimpse of Dean’s chest and reaches for Dean’s face, tilting it up and kissing him softly.

Dean drops his hands to Sam’s hips, letting him set the pace. Sam pushes the shirt just off Dean’s shoulders so it still clings to his arms, and kisses his way round Dean’s jaw line and down onto his neck, each touch of his lips slow and deliberate. He pushes the shirt further off, almost down to Dean’s elbows, the fabric sliding over his skin. Dean’s shoulders get his attention now, and he ducks his head, mouthing over the expanse of freckles he rarely gets to see when they’re rutting in the dark. Sam bends further down, running his tongue in small tight circles around first one nipple, then the other, alternating until Dean groans and drops his head back.

Sam slowly drops to his knees, looking up at Dean with so much love in his eyes that Dean shivers and cups Sam’s cheek, smoothing his thumb over Sam’s cheekbone. Sam doesn’t take his eyes from Dean’s as he unfastens the belt and jeans Dean’s wearing, and pushes them open just enough to push his face against Dean’s stomach, and breathe in his scent. Dean’s hands move into Sam’s hair and they tighten as Sam runs the tip of his tongue around the edge of Dean’s belly button, then dips it inside.

Dean’s whole body trembles as Sam thrusts his tongue in and out, then licks down Dean’s pale treasure trail until he’s hampered by the jeans still hanging off Dean’s hips. He bends down, takes off Dean’s shoes and socks, lifting one foot at a time and once it’s naked, caressing it before he puts it back down. The jeans are next. He pulls them further down, eases them over Deans ass, and down his long legs until he needs to lift each foot again to take them off.

He runs his hands up Dean’s bare legs, fingers lingering round the backs of Dean’s knees which he knows are weak spots that he doesn’t get to exploit nearly enough. Sam presses his face against the bulge in Dean’s tight white boxer briefs, nuzzling and softly biting through the fabric, encouraging the growing wet spot with his tongue.

Dean’s mesmerized, watching Sam’s every move, every touch, luxuriating in the time he’s taking, in the time he’s devoting to making Dean feel so good he feels lightheaded, dizzy from standing there, in the middle of the day while Sam peels his clothes off and openly admires what he sees. Dean’s never felt as naked before and he’s still got his boxers and shirt on.

“Bed.” Sam’s commanding now, and Dean goes with it, happy to give himself up into Sam’s hands for as long as he wants.

Sam leads him by the hand, pushing him back onto the bed in a debauched sprawl as soon as they get close. The shirt tangles around his arms, effectively pinning them to his sides. He pulls on it a little, thinking he could wriggle out of it, but then Sam distracts him by tugging off Dean’s shorts and pushing his legs apart. His big hands press on the insides of Dean’s thighs, and Dean complies, squirming as Sam leers down at him, his gaze drawn by Dean’s had and flushed cock.

“Sammy,” Dean manages to get out before Sam licks his way up Dean’s splayed thighs and tries to kill Dean by mouthing over his balls and slipping his tongue lower to lap at his hole. Dean gives up on words, he couldn’t be coherent now if he tried, so he moans and gasps instead, clutching at Sam’s hair, pulling him closer.

Sam pulls back and grins up at him, and takes his time licking his way up Dean’s dick, driving Dean half insane in the process. Finally, Sam’s warm mouth closes around him. Dean lets out a ragged sigh as Sam works his way down, until his nose is pressed against Dean’s stomach. He swallows, the motion causing Dean to jack knife off the bed, holding Sam’s head in a vice like grip in his lap and rocking into the tight wet heat. Sam slides his hand under Dean, and slips a finger inside him, drawing a long groan from his lips. As soon as he hits the spot, moving the pad of his finger over it again and again, Dean comes.

It sizzles down his spine, and he throws himself back down to the bed, thrusting his hips up and pumping down Sam’s throat, moaning Sam’s name as almost blacks out.

Sam swallows, easing off slowly, savoring every last drop as Dean lies panting on the bed, his eyes glazed over. Sam gets up and strips out of his own clothes, grabbing the lube from the pocket of his jeans. He crawls back up the bed between Dean’s legs, thrown wantonly wide and inviting. He slicks his fingers and pushes two into Dean, which brings more moaning from Dean.

Dean’s relaxed and open and reaching for Sam as much as he can as his arms are still partially trapped in the shirt. Sam takes pity on him and helps him out of it, smiling as Dean then uses his freedom to grab Sam and kiss him as Sam lines up his dick and pushes into Dean.

He likes the way Dean breathes hard over his mouth as he fucks him, hot little gusts of air that he breathes in as he bites Dean’s lips. Dean runs his hands down Sam’s back, cupping and stroking the muscles of his ass as they flex with every thrust. He pushes up to meet Sam, wanting him as deep as he can go, and as his brother gets closer, Dean slips a finger down to press at Sam’s hole. That’s all it takes to push him over the edge and Sam fills Dean, his eyes squeezing shut as Dean mauls his slack mouth and swallows his cries. Sam shudders, still moving inside him well after he’s finished, until, soothed by Dean’s hands on his skin, he pulls out and lies back on the bed, snuggling Dean as Dean holds him, and dozing with his head on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean grins and cards his fingers through Sam’s hair. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. He lets Sam sleep until the grumbling in his stomach wakes him up.

“I’m starving.” Dean yawns and stretches. “Do we have to get all dressed up for dinner?”

Sam can hear the plea in Dean’s voice and shakes his head, smiling.

“No, we can have room service tonight. Go and get the shower going and I’ll order us something.”

Dean bends down to kiss him as he wanders through to the bathroom.

“Holy crap! The shower is huge! Get your ass in here, Sammy!” Dean pops his head round the door and wiggles his eyebrows.

“Lemme order and I’ll be right there.” Sam picks up the phone, and makes sure Dean is in the shower before he makes the call. “Hi, Barry? It’s Sam Wesson. We’ll be eating in the room tonight, and I wondered if you could organize something that’s not on the menu?”

  
It’s a little later than anticipated when Sam finally gets out of the shower. Dean had slipped to his knees, sucked him off, then turned him round and come all over his ass before they’d eventually gotten cleaned up. Dean’s lying on the bed in one of the fluffy robes that comes with the room. He’s flicking through the channels on the large TV and Sam knows what he’s looking for. At the sound of a knock on the door, Sam wraps a towel around his waist and answers it.

“Room service,” a cheery voice announces.

Sam stands back to let Barry in, and Dean’s eyes widen at the unmistakable smell of pepperoni pizza.

Barry pushes a cart into the room. Two large pizza boxes are accompanied by two chilled packs of Dean’s favorite beer and a bottle of tequila on ice, limes and a salt cellar. There’s shot glasses and an apple pie and a jug of cream too and to top it off, a copy of Die Hard on Blu-ray.

Barry unloads it all onto the table, and leaves with a wink and a generous tip from Sam.

“It’s tradition, right?” Sam smirks, then hits the wall with an oof as Dean launches himself at Sam, kissing him hard.

They sit on the California king bed in their robes, Dean cross legged and munching on pizza, watching his favorite flick.

“You’re such a romantic, Sammy.” He grins, giving Sam a sloppy, pepperoni flavored kiss.

Sam smiles and lies down on his side so he can watch the movie and Dean. He smugly and silently applauds himself for being an awesome boyfriend as well as an awesome brother. Everyone, especially Dean, deserves a chick flick moment or two in their lives every now and then.


End file.
